


DOUBT

by jayudice



Series: You'll be okay. [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Chwe Hansol | Vernon-centric, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Detatchment, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hip-hop Unit, Kissing, Lack of Communication, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Paranoid Social Thinking, Polyamory, References to Depression, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Shame, depersonalisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayudice/pseuds/jayudice
Summary: “Are you okay?” Mingyu nudges him. “You look sick.”“No I’m fine.” He assures Mingyu, flashing him a quick smile.“You don’t want to take a day off?”The way Mingyu presses makes him feel ashamed. Why should he take a break when no one else does?So he shakes his head and declines. He doesn’t want Mingyu to hate him too.alternatively - hansol doesn't want his friends to worry and hate him more for being lazy when he really isn't, it's just hard sometimes.





	DOUBT

Trickling self-doubt. 

 

It was like a creek, a stream in Hansol’s mind that plagued every thought, every action until he could barely breathe properly. 

 

“Does he hate me?”

 

Voices echoed in the wide expanse of Hansol’s mind. It travels until the very edge and as hard as Hansol tries to run from them, he can’t. 

 

It starts small. 

 

And like a seed, once the thought is planted, it grows if you give it attention. 

 

Minghao had once told Hansol, that he had read a story about two wolves. They battle in your mind, teeth and blood, snarling and struggling. One is all that is negative and bad, soul sucking and ugly. The other is the sunshine and laughter, the hope and faith each person possesses. 

 

He had asked Minghao. “When do they stop fighting?”

 

“The one that is stronger will win.”

 

“And how would you know which is stronger?”

 

Minghao pauses. “The wolf you feed will be strongest.”

 

Hansol doesn’t really see the wolves. Instead, it’s a plants. And he has many plants in his mind, growing and furling into big big trees and flowers, vines and leaves climbing up to the highest places in his mind, curling and swirling. 

 

The ones that he doesn’t visit die. The leaves fall on the floor with each day he doesn’t think about them until all is left is the naked, defeated bark and root. The ones that grow from the gross thoughts that he wishes doesn’t torment his mind grow into disfigured cruel shapes. It almost hurts. 

 

This one right now, is painful. 

 

It jabs at Hansol, almost teasingly and his face twists into an contorted, uncomfortable expression. 

 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu nudges him. “You look sick.”

 

Hansol snaps out of it. “No I’m fine.” He assures Mingyu, flashing him a quick smile. 

 

“You don’t want to take a day off?” 

 

The way Mingyu presses makes him feel ashamed. Why should  _ he _ take a break when no one else does?

 

So he shakes his head and declines. He doesn’t want Mingyu to hate him too. 

 

-

 

It started with the rehearsals. 

 

There had been a day, when, when driving to their practice room, Hansol started shaking. 

 

And he knew from the moment he woke up, the familiar dark pull of dread when he forces himself to lift the duvet away from himself. 

 

He can’t go. 

 

But he has to. 

 

So he gets up, after seconds and minutes of the agonising frenzy that explodes in his mind. They don’t want him to go. The mind doesn’t want to go. 

 

He ignores it. Shovelling it down and he gets up. That was the easy part. He walks to the bathroom, and doesn’t bother to greet anyone but no one questions it. It is early in the morning after all. 

 

His fingers struggling to squeeze the last remaining toothpaste out of the bottle, his body failing him and he ends up with a tiny amount of product on the bristles. 

 

It feel ridiculous to think that it’s hard to brush his teeth. How can brushing oneself’s teeth be hard never mind challenging? 

 

The toothbrush almost falls to the ground, his grasp loose and lazy, but his mouth is jammed shut before it does. 

 

He still has to shower. 

 

Tearing the clothes off his body, he stands, shivering in the bathroom. He can hear everyone else behind the door getting ready yet he crouches on the floor. 

 

Goosebumps litter across his arms and legs and he shakes and he doesn’t know if it’s the anxiety or the cold. Hansol grits his teeth. How is showering proving to be as difficult as brushing his teeth? It’s ridiculous. He’s overreacting. What kind of person struggles to get showered? 

 

There’s a sharp pain behind his eyes and he wills himself not to cry. He refuses to cry for unreasonable explanations. No. He won’t. 

 

He sniffs and someone bangs on the door to hurry up and he flinches, toppling over onto the icy tiled floor. 

 

The shower stays off. He leaves, defeated. 

 

-

 

The members trickle out of the dorms slowly and soon Hansol is left by himself alone. No one had checked up on him. He’s sitting on the floor. There are clothes on his back and yet he feels frosty and frozen. 

 

A flash. His phone wakes up, alive with notifications and calls and texts that Hansol can’t afford the energy to answer. He watches mournfully as call after call goes by. He’s unmoving. 

 

He had done this before. 

 

It was midnight, when he had left the practice rooms for a breath of fresh air. They were told to be back in fifteen minutes. 

 

Fifteen minutes past midnight. He doesn’t know where he is. He keeps walking and his feet feel numb. 

 

There is no battery in his phone, he knows this but he doesn’t need it. It doesn’t exist at that moment. Now it was him and the occasional whisper of the wind. 

 

He walks and walks until he doesn’t know if it’s thirty minutes past midnight or four in the morning. He forgets to go back. He forgets to turn around and go in the opposite direction. 

 

Finally, he enters through the door. He found his way back. It creaks in amidst all the silence and he’s still trembling. It’s pitch black and no one is up. 

 

“Hansol.” 

 

It seems as though someone is up. 

 

“Hansol, where have you been?” Seungcheol’s voice cracks and if Hansol squints he can make out his silhouette in the darkness. 

 

Hansol’s mouth feels dry. He hasn’t drank water. “Walking.” He croaks. 

 

The lampshade is pulled. Warm light bathes the corner of the room where Seungcheol sits. His face shines. He looks like he’s been crying. 

 

“You didn’t call.” Seungcheol told him. “Or text.” He looks like he’s about to cry again. “Do you know how worried we’ve been? Everyone had just gone to bed but they all wanted to stay up and wait for you.”

 

Hansol swallows down the bitterness that’s lodged in this throat. He had stopped them from getting the sleep they deserved. Instead they sat awake in the middle of the night, waiting for Hansol. 

 

How selfish of him.

 

“I’m sorry.” Hansol whispers. His bottom lip quivers. 

 

Seungcheol rises up. Hansol takes a couple steps back. His head his bowed with shame. 

 

“Don’t do that again.” Seungcheol tells him. His voice is low, serious and arcane to Hansol. 

 

He nods. He doesn’t meet Seungcheol’s eyes. 

 

The leader backs off and Hansol is left in the empty room. He forgets to turn the light off.

 

Now, his screen is beaming with Seungcheol’s face. He’s calling Hansol.

 

**Accept or Decline?** His phone is asking him.

 

**ACCEPT OR DECLINE?** It screams. Pick one. 

 

Neither. He replies. 

 

He doesn’t know how long he sits. His butt aches and he’s gotten cold again but he doesn’t move to reach for the blanket that is an arm’s length away. 

 

He doesn’t hear the door open and he doesn’t hear the clack clack clack of shoes on the hard floor. 

 

He doesn’t see how Wonwoo peers into his room and he doesn’t look up when he calls his name. 

 

He barely responds when Wonwoo crouches down and he shrinks further inside himself, hiding. 

 

It feels like a heavy weight in his chest, pulling him down into the floor and his heart seems to have trouble beating. Everything is hard to do. 

 

Wonwoo is saying something but Hansol’s mind is unfocused and hazy and he feels like he’s floating and dreaming again. 

 

Detached.

 

When Wonwoo cradles his face in his hands, thumbs wiping the wetness away from his cheeks, only then does he finally realise he’s crying. 

 

He understand what’s happening, how cold he is, how Wonwoo is right in front of him and he seems his pathetic reflection in Wonwoo’s eyes and his shoulders wrack with the sobs that are finally uncaged and released from his body. 

 

It’s warm now, his body cocooned safely in Wonwoo’s arms. Cradled like a child as he cries violently into Wonwoo’s shirt. It quickly grows damp, the light grey turning dark with every sniffles and muffled hiccups. 

 

Wonwoo shifts and he hears the tap tap tapping of his fingers working on his phone and he tries his best to breathe in and out and Wonwoo strokes his back lovingly as he puffs through his mouth. 

 

When more people spill into the dorm, he hears them this time. Hears the worried voices and loud shoes and he feels suffocated and afraid and he clings closer to Wonwoo and he feels Wonwoo’s chest rumble as he tells them to give him space. 

 

As much space as they can. Hansol thinks bitterly. He’s not good. 

 

He peeks over Wonwoo’s shoulder and he sees Seungcheol and his thin lipped gaze, his mouth set in a hard straight line and he feels another wave of tears and he screws his eyes shut because he doesn’t deserve to cry but he does anyway. 

 

Someone kisses him and Hansol can taste the salt on his lips and tongue and his breathing finally slows down and it’s Seungcheol who’d kissed him. He hadn’t hit him or cursed at him but Hansol still tries to rush away. Seungcheol hates him, his fingers crawling into Wonwoo’s arms and he almost starts to hyperventilate again. 

 

There’s another body that presses against him and they hold him tightly and when Hansol moves to dig his nails into his skin they quickly soothe over them. 

 

“Don’t, don’t.” Mingyu whispers. “Just breathe for now.”

 

Hansol keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see his hyung’s faces as he struggles to maintain control over himself. It’s humiliating. 

 

He eventually does and someone, Mingyu, presses a kiss to his forehead and strokes his greasy hair. 

 

His eyes open and he spots the distressed expressions of his unit and he lowers his face. 

 

“Hansol-ah.” Seungcheol says. “I’m so worried.” 

 

Hansol bites his lip. They’re already chapped and he hadn’t noticed that  he’s been biting it, it since he had woken up. 

 

“We love you, you know.” Seungcheol continues. “You can tell us if you can’t go.” 

 

“Don’t ignore our calls.” Wonwoo adds. “I- We assume the worst if you don’t.” 

 

He thinks he hears Wonwoo’s voice crack. 

 

He hesitates before finally speaking. “But…” He gulps. “Don’t you hate me?” He asks. “I made everyone worry about me and Seungcheol-hyung stayed up to wait and I keep feeling like shit every single day and you guys obviously don’t care and it’s bothering everyone.”

 

His voice is small and quiet like a mouse and Mingyu sighs heavily. He’s gone and done it. He’s definitely made them hate him. 

 

Hansol braces himself and Seungcheol tilts his chin up. Now he’s crying and it’s Hansol’s fault. 

 

He gets kissed again and Hansol kisses back like it’s the last time Seungcheol would ever touch him. He whimpers when they part and Seungcheol looks deeply into Hansol’s eyes. 

 

“We could never  _ ever  _ hate you Sollie.” Seungcheol says. “Never.” 

 

“But-” 

 

“No matter what we love you. That is something that will never change.” He tells Hansol firmly. 

 

Mingyu nods. “If we need more time between comebacks to practice, it won’t cause any trouble. Everyone in the group cares more about you than performing.”

 

“What about the fans?” Hansol argues back. “What about the company? What will the CEO say?” 

 

“If the CEO doesn’t allow it. I will leave.” Wonwoo jumps in before Seungcheol responds. “If they push us to keep working when one of us is struggling, I will leave.” 

 

“We all would leave.” Mingyu tells Hansol. “I don’t need to ask everyone else what they think.”

 

Hansol feels reassurance enter his heart, but cautiously. He turns his wide brown eyes at Seungcheol. 

 

“I would leave in a heartbeat.” Seungcheol promises. “We’re family. If one of us can’t then none of us can. And if one of us struggles, all of us care. Nothing can break us apart Hansol. Don’t you worry.”

 

“But-”

 

“Shh.” Wonwoo shushes, he rocks Hansol back and forth. “We won’t practice today. Seungcheol-hyung will tell the managers that we need a day off and if you can’t go tomorrow, then we will take another day off.” 

 

“And… and no one will hate me?” Hansol asks fearfully. 

 

“No.” They all say. 

 

Hansol hesitates. “But I don’t answer texts when you worry about me and I don’t go to rehearsals sometimes and I keep- I keep having trouble  _ breathing _ and sometimes I think I might  _ die _ and it’s so  _ annoying _ .”

 

“You’re having panic attacks.” Wonwoo tells him. “What kind of people would we be if we hated you for feeling anxious?”

 

Mingyu nods. “Everyone as shitty days but…” He clears his throat. “It doesn’t matter. But you’re not annoying.” He says surely. “We would rather you tell us than keep it to yourself.”

 

“It’s hard sometimes.” Hansol mumbles. “I don’t even know what’s wrong. How can I feel sad when I don’t know what’s wrong?”

 

“That’s okay.” Seungcheol soothes. “You don’t have to know why. And I know it’s hard to tell people, but telling the people who care about you is different from just telling strangers right? Because we won’t push you unknowingly to do things if we know you’re having a bad day.”

 

“But-”

 

Seungcheol shushes him. “It doesn’t matter.” He tells him. “Just- we get most worried if you don’t reply us.” 

 

“We don’t know where you are, what you might do.” Wonwoo says worriedly. 

 

“I’m not gonna  _ do  _ anything.” Hansol weakly says. 

 

Mingyu cuts in. “But  _ we  _ don’t know that.” He says. “Tell someone okay baby? No one will judge you.”

 

“I’m not afraid of anyone judging me.” 

 

“Then what are you afraid of?” Seungcheol questions. 

 

A beat passes. 

 

“I’m afraid that I’m going to stop us from succeeding.” 

 

“Succeeding?” Seungcheol laughs. “We’ve already succeeded.” He reaches over to cup Hansol’s face with adoration. “We’re still together. That’s success. Not the amount of awards or songs we release okay?” 

 

Wonwoo agrees. “I don’t care if we don’t win the daesang.” He admits. “It’s not as important as you are to me.”

 

“This is so sappy.” Mingyu teases them. “It’s true! But it’s sappy.”

 

Hansol smiles and leans in to give Mingyu a tender peck. “I love you guys.” He reveals, eyes curving into crescents. 

 

Seungcheol pouts at Hansol’s confession. “We do too.” 

 

Hansol gets up from the floor. It’s a bit challenging but he makes it. 

 

He guesses he really can get through it, if they’re by his side. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! 
> 
> as mentioned in other parts of this series, i am in no way an expert in mental health and all of these stories come from my own experiences as someone who suffers from depression. im one of those people who detaches themselves from society? friends? people? as a way to cope with whatever is overwhelming me. i want to explore this further in the future and other themes of this! 
> 
> leave kudos and comments please! i really appreciate them! 
> 
> if you're suffering in any shape or form, please seek for help! it's really hard to get through things like this alone and it's important to build a support system for yourself!


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